Dead to Dead
by Simahoyo
Summary: Caution, this is one dark story. I borrowed Anne Fortier from my favorite Canadian TV show of all time, Fortier, but this is years later. Jane & Maura follow Anne as she descends into mental illness, their attempt to help may turn into a descent to hell.
1. Chapter 1

Dead to Dead

By Simahoyo

(This is one dark story. I borrowed Anne Fortier from my favorite Canadian police series, Fortier. Jane and Maura follow Anne Fortier's descent into mental illness trying to help. It becomes a descent into Hell when Anne comes into the BP station covered in blood and raving. Rizzilses)

Chapter One

July. Hot-brutal in a big city. Sun and heat bouncing off concrete, brick, cars...Clothes stick to people and the air is almost too heavy to breathe. This is not weather the police like to see. Tempers are short, and shouting matches turn to fistfights, to grabbing whatever is close to hand, to head bashing and murder.

Inside the Boston homicide division, fans tried to move the air around. Three wilted detectives sat at their desks–not speaking. Not moving unless they had to. Jane Rizzoli looked up as the familiar

sound of high heels tapped across the floor. It was Maura. How did she manage to look that good in this crappy weather? Oh yeah, the cold room. Jane smiled with some effort.

"Hi."

Maura didn't smile. She looked worried. They didn't have a case, thank god, God, Whoever. Jane was too hot to think.

Maura leaned over Jane's shoulder, asking quietly, "Have you heard from Anne Fortier?"

Which was a good question because Jane had. And didn't like what she had heard.

"Yes. Talk at home?"

"Of course." and Maura disappeared back downstairs.

Jane thought about their friend. She was a living cliche. A crazy psychiatrist. Not that Jane blamed her. Some violent trauma had unmoored her from sanity, and the question was, on any given day,

just how far from sanity she had wandered. Jane had made a real effort to help. She knew that Maura had also tried, in French no less. But despite their efforts, the woman seemed more convinced than ever that she was actually dead. And now she had emailed that she was moving to Boston. Well, frankly, that made Jane a bit nervous.

Rizzoli joked about her crazy family, but they were the very model of sanity compared with the good doctor. Jane was not happy about having to baby sit someone who was actually mentally ill...and it looked as if she was going to have to if Anne Fortier showed up in Boston. Yet, she could not leave the woman without someone to help her. "God knows what kind of mess she could get into on her own."

"You say something, Rizzoli?" Frost mopped his forehead with a handkerchief.

"It's too damn hot." Jane was the Queen of Deflection.

"Think the Doc would share that cold room?", asked Korsak.

Jane picked up the phone and all three were delighted to discover that she would, indeed, share.

Jane got home first. Jo Friday was asleep. The detective started the air conditioning and took a shower. Afterward, she was unwilted, in clean clothes and ready to face her computer. It was funny, after she had moved in with Maura, that they had set up their computers opposite each other, so that one turn in an office chair would allow them to share whatever they were working on, or work in complete privacy. No discussion, it just seemed right.

Jane looked for any more emails from Dr. Fortier. There was nothing in her inbox, so she went to the file of Anne's emails, and looked through them one more time. The first ones were friendly,

mildly joking–sometimes very funny. But they got increasingly darker. Anne was starting to describe her nightmare's and they were startling. It was as if she could not see herself as a living human being. She moved, ghost-like, through a world of violence at first familiar to any homicide detective, then, into sickening detail.

At one point Jane had dared to ask what had happened to Anne. She had told Dr. Fortier about her encounters with Hoyt, hoping that this would help. Anne's terse reply was pointed in its simplicity. "Rape, cutting, buried alive. Enough?" Jane backed off.

The door opened and Maura was home. This always made Jane happy. Even when they were sniping at each other, she was happy to see Maura. Jo Friday ran to her, wagging her whole body.

Bass was also making a much slower beeline to Dr. Isles. A beaming smile at Jane lifted the heaviness from her review of the Fortier file.

With a quick kiss, Maura was off to the shower and a change of clothing. Now she was sitting in her office chair with concern in her eyes.

"I don't like what I'm seeing from Anne. She needs help that I can't give."

"I thought you aced psychology. Doesn't that make you...?" Jane ran out of ideas and therefore her sentence.

"No. I'm afraid she may need hospitalization. This idea that she is dead has taken over. She can't hold a job. She's having trouble forming sentences. Especially in English. What is this? 'I move dead two death over corpse of self."

"That's just plain creepy. Is she better in French?" At Maura's nod, Jane continued, "She wrote me that she wants to move here. My God, I'm not even an amateur shrink. I can't handle this. What if I said or did something that made her really kill herself?"

Maura put her hand on Jane's shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting motion. "Don't take it all on yourself. Anne's sick. I just don't know what to do about it. Maybe, if she is here, we can report her as a danger to herself."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

As it turned out, they were wrong. Three weeks later, Anne was living in Boston. Her singular weirdness made her stand out anywhere she went. The formerly well-turned out doctor stumbled along, without her glasses. Her clothing had not been near an iron in who knew when. She wore the same thing day after day, until pity moved Jane and Maura to invade Anne's apartment to see what they could do for her. Anne fiddled with the key, mumbling to herself until Jane grabbed the key and opened the door. The smell–no, it was a stench, knocked them back into the hall. Maura pushed the door wide open and went inside. Jane had seen better crime scenes. The refrigerator was open, and unplugged. Spoiled food grew green hair from the shelves. Papers were scattered all over the floor, along with clothes. The mattress was off the bed and on the floor. Anne stood there as if nothing was wrong. Jane and Maura exchanged a look. By now they had their own silent code. Jane literally rolled her sleeves up, while Maura took Anne by the hand, turning toward the hallway.

"Would you like something to eat? We can get something right now, it you'd like. And coffee, with four sugars. It won't take long. Jane will stay and guard your things."

Over an hour later, Jane had cleaned and disinfected the mess, plugged the fridge back in and dumped the contaminated food. Her back hurt from the labor. Her head and heart hurt because of the situation. When Anne returned, she might go ballistic. There was no way to predict. How had such a brilliant woman turned her life into this? Jane almost could feel her own footsteps behind her. She had gone one way. Anne had gone another. What was the difference? She had no idea.

Jane was sitting on the floor in front of Anne's locked apartment. She stood when she heard Maura and Anne coming up the hall. Their conversation was in French, but Jane could make out

the tone that mean Maura's patience was wearing thin. "Bless her, she's got a fuse a mile long, but she sure can explode at the end.", thought Jane.

When the two woman came around the corner, Jane stood, automatically supporting her back. Maura's eyes had darkened, another bad sign.

"Hi. Did you have a good time? Plenty to eat?" Jane looked from Anne to Maura and back, as her voice gave away her wariness. Jane gave the key to Anne, who looked at it as if she had never seen it before. Then she giggled, and opened the door.

Maura and Jane touched hands, hardly daring to breathe. Anne studied the inside, suddenly darted to the fridge, snatching her glasses from the top. "They went away. Now they came back." But instead of putting them on, she put them inside the fridge. "Dead people don't wear glasses, You can go away now." Anne turned away, humming to herself and rocking on her heels.

"Ok. Goodbye, Anne."

"Jane didn't close the door. It's my coffin, tomb, vault..."

Jane closed the door. She and Maura walked in silence. Neither could speak. They faced each other, out of words. When they got to Jane's car, Maura let out her breath. "My God. I'm in so far over my head."

Jane clenched her jaw. "You are? I have no idea how to handle this. Don't you know somebody, like from Med school?"

They got into the car and drove off.

After running through several of Maura's contacts, they gave up and went to the BPD department Psychologist. He was wiry and his red and watery eyes seemed to be reacting to some nearby allergen. He kept a box of tissues at the ready. He motioned to them to sit down.

"What's up?, He asked. And unlike every shrink Jane had ever seen in movies or on television, he shut up and listened.

Maura was right to the point. "Our friend is mentally ill. It's more than we can handle. So, what should we do now?"

"On a scale from one to ten...", he asked

"Twenty-five. I mean it. I'm no expert, but wow. She's not making sense. Her place was filthy.

She thinks she's dead..." Jane tapped the arm of her chair.

"Jane is right. I did rather well with my psychology studies, but this is something for a professional. The trouble is, she is sure that she is just fine. That she doesn't need any help."

"Just that she's dead..." The psychologist kept his expression blank.

"That and oh Hell, just read these." Jane handed him a fistful of email printouts.

He read, crossed his legs, and started to jiggle his foot. When he finished, he handed the sheaf of paper back to Jane. "I think we have a problem. She needs hospitalization, but she is also not a legal danger to herself or others. Can you keep an eye on her until she mentions something like suicide.?"

Jane's eyes were nearing the death ray stage. "Or murder? What the hell does the state do with these people? I read about a mother who begged–**-begged** the state for help for her son before he did something terrible. They ignored her, until he borrowed a gun and killed seven women in an office. So, what do we do meanwhile? I'm sick of cleaning up after these situations." By then she was standing. Usually Maura would have tried to calm her down, but one look told Jane that Maura was as angry as she was. She also knew that if Maura spoke at this stage, she might say things they would all regret. The two women exchanged a glance. They got up and prepared to leave.

"Thanks for your time.", and Jane shook his hand. Maura gave him an evil look. Jane took the door in her hand and closed it gently. She walked Maura down the hall, and outside the building.

"$&*+%$! idiots. +%&*&$$! Why didn't she stay in Canada? They could help her!" Maura punched the wall a few times, continuing to swear until she started to wear down. Jane knew it would just be a matter of time before the swearing became tears. And there they were. Jane held out her arms as Maura cried on her shoulder. Jane patted her back and waited. A bit later, Maura

laughed. "Insane Irish." thought Jane. "What?", she asked.

Maura wiped the tears away from her smiling face. "You can't say I hit like a girl now."

"I'm going to have to start carrying tissues.", Jane examined Maura's hand, scuffed with her encounter with the wall. "And bandages,"

The silence landed when they got home from work. There was one subject they were avoiding, and each was determined not to discuss it. They ate in silence–not an angry one. Little touches and looks made sure each knew there was no anger there. It was as if the subject was so big, they were too faint of heart to even try to climb it. Finally, Jane spoke.

"I hate this. Why can't we do anything? I want to, but I just don't know how."

Maura was concentrating on Bass's slow progress to his food dish. Not looking at Jane, she replied, "We aren't Superwomen. That's a hard truth. I was raised to be one. 'Girls can grow up to be anything...' We can't. That's what I hate."

"Yeah. I'd even try some renegade Catholic folk magic if I thought it would work. You know, like bury a statue of St. Joe upside down in the yard or something. But that's to sell your house anyway."

Maura looked completely puzzled. "What? Is it just me, or are you really reaching."

"I'm really reaching. Pixie dust, magic wand–anything at this point. "

On that note, they cleaned up and went to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

It was the middle of the night when the cell phone rang. It was on Jane's side, so she grabbed at it.

"Rizzoli."

"Detective Rizzoli, this is Desk Sargent Haymer. We got a lady here who just walked in, covered with blood. She's not making any sense, but I think she knows you."

Jane sat up. Cold chills made her shiver. "Describe her."

"She's a real mess. Looks homeless. White, average height, blonde, curly hair, blue eyes. French accent."

"Oh God, no. We'll be right there."

Maura opened one eye. "Body?"

"Anne's in trouble."

Jane threw her clothes on and ran for the bathroom, brushing her teeth before battling her hair for supremacy. The hair won, so she suck it in an elastic band, and made room for Maura. Jane went to the kitchen, started some coffee, grabbed travel cups, and waited.

Maura came in, perfectly put together. Not a hair out of place.

"How do you do that?", grumped Jane.

Jane poured their coffee, while Maura took two power bars out of a drawer.

Jane made a face. "I hate those things."

"So do I, but they give us good nutrition when we don't have time to eat."

They were out the door.

Jane drove like a bat out of hell, and Maura let her. They couldn't bring themselves to talk until they got to the station. They ran into the public area.

The Desk Sargent looked up hopefully. He was bulky behind the glass. He called out, "Detective Rizzoli?"

"Yeah. We're here. Where is she?"

He opened the door, and indicated a room down the hall. Jane yanked the door opened. There sat Anne, her hands and arms covered in blood, smears of it on her wrinkled and dirty clothing. Maura was right behind Jane, but worked her way around–always the doctor.

Anne was silent. She didn't look at or otherwise acknowledge either woman.

Maura approached gingerly, speaking softly in French. Finally Anne looked at Maura. Maura examined Anne's hands and arms. Her words were for Jane. "No injuries. It's not her blood.

She's not making any sense. I really have no idea how she got this way."

Jane moved closer. Her sharp eyes took in blood spatter on Anne's chest. She glanced down to Anne's shoes. Mud. That could help the crime scene guys find out where Anne had been.

"Doesn't look good. Ask her where she was."

Maura relayed the question in French. Anne got that dreamy, lost look on her face. Her reply was a mixture of French and English.

"My ghost self found another self en cimetière. Oh, la descente. Hell's Gate ouvert. Morts- -morts attaqué my corpse. I fight. I kill. Dead to dead. Dead to dead." Now Anne was rocking and wringing her hands.

Maura was gentle as if with a young child. "Come with me. I'm called the Queen of the Dead. I'll take you where the dead live." Maura lead Anne on the way to the morgue.

Jane saw the signal to follow. She kept fingering her cell phone. This was looking more and more like something they would have to recuse themselves from. Did Anne kill someone? The pit of Jane's stomach was cold as ice.

The morgue was dim, while the night guy dosed in a chair. He looked up as the three women entered. "Hi M...ummm, Dr. Isles. What's up?"

"We have a body we need to examine. It's okay to call me Maura. You know Detective Rizzoli.. Jane, you probably haven't met Doug Wilson. He knows his science."

Jane nodded at Doug, and watched as Maura spoke to Anne in French. Her voice was soft and soothing. "She'll make a wonderful mother." Jane swatted the thought away. She didn't even have the nerve to propose.

"Jane, will you help me put the body on the table?"

Jane might have been amused by Maura's living within Anne's delusion, but all that blood...

She helped Maura move Anne gently to the table, and laid her living body on the space reserved for the dead. Then Jane stood back, watching Maura examine Anne's hands, test the blood, dig under her fingernails for evidence–all as kindly as possible.

Maura bagged and tagged everything she found, including Anne's shoes. Now she was combing through Anne's tangled and filthy hair. Jane was admiring her partner's technique. Each comb full was gathered carefully, and placed in an evidence envelope. Maura worked quickly. She was already looking at Anne's clothing. Maura picked up the shears usually used for cutting off clothing. She looked at them, and at her patient's blood covered hands. Maura put the shears away. She unbuttoned Anne's blouse carefully.

"Doug, please help me turn the body?"

Doug's face showed his puzzlement. Jane heard him whisper, "Liveliest body I've ever seen."

Maura gave him her, "Shut up now," look.

"Sorry Maura."

Together they rolled Anne's over to remove the blouse from her torso. This too, went into an evidence bag. The next item removed was her skirt. Finally, Anne was lying there in her underwear, shivering.

"I'll need a camera.", said Maura.

Doug pulled one out of a drawer. Maura took pictures, both front and back, then went into her office, and returned with her own blanket she used to nap with when she did an all-niter. She covered Anne, did a slow blink, then turned to Jane.

"You can take everything to crime lab. "I'll make the calls."

Jane gathered the evidence, smiling gratefully at her partner.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Maura bagged and tagged everything she found, including Anne's shoes. Now she was combing through Anne's tangled and filthy hair. Jane was admiring her partner's technique. Each comb full was gathered carefully, and placed in an evidence envelope. Maura worked quickly. She was already looking at Anne's clothing. Maura picked up the shears usually used for cutting off clothing. She looked at them, and at her patient's blood covered hands. Maura put the shears away. She unbuttoned Anne's blouse carefully.

"Doug, please help me turn the body?"

Doug's face showed his puzzlement. Jane heard him whisper, "Liveliest body I've ever seen."

Maura gave him her, "Shut up now," look.

"Sorry Maura."

Together they rolled Anne's over to remove the blouse from her torso. This too, went into an evidence bag. The next item removed was her skirt. Finally, Anne was lying there in her underwear, shivering.

"I'll need a camera.", said Maura.

Doug pulled one out of a drawer. Maura took pictures, both front and back, then went into her office, and returned with her own blanket she used to nap with when she did an all-niter. She covered Anne, did a slow blink, then turned to Jane.

"You can take everything to crime lab. "I'll make the calls."

Jane gathered the evidence, smiling gratefully at her partner.

Nearly up the stairs, Jane opened her cell phone to check the time. She was shocked to discover it was nearly 8 AM. The same crew was still working on the previous evidence she had brought them. When she appeared with the new evidence bag, Kendall's eyes widened.

"More? Wow, we don't usually get so much. What is it?"

"Splinters. Do you have a wood guy?". Jane handed the bag to him.

"The best. He can tell the age, species, anything you want."

"Oh. You're the wood guy."

Kendall grimaced at getting caught. "Guilty."

"I'll be up in Homicide." Jane left for her own desk. Her feet hurt, and she felt the beginning of a headache behind her right eye.. She knew she had some naproxen in her desk drawer.

She drooped into her desk chair, opened the drawer and dug around. With the pills in her hand, she checked her bottom drawer for a bottle of water. Once the pills were taken, Jane was finally in a mood to speak to anyone..

Korsak wandered in, took one look at Jane, and asked, "Body last night."

"Kinda. We know there is one, but not where yet. I'm waiting for crime lab. If I put my head down, I'll be out like a light."

"Yeah, well, go ahead. I'll cover for you." Korsak grinned at Jane.

"I think I love you." Jane put her head down and was asleep in less than a minute.

It seemed like a second later when Korsak shook Jane awake. "Hey, Cavenaugh wants you in his office."

Jane rubbed her eyes, pushed back her hair, and went into her bosses office.

Cavenaugh was looking through a file. He glanced up as Jane entered, and motioned for her to sit.

"Who is this Anne Fortier?"

"A friend of mine and Maura's. We know to recuse ourselves. "

"_You_ had enough sense to stick with handling sealed evidence bags. _Dr. Isles_ seems to have gotten in somewhat deeper."

"She had that Doug guy there the whole time she was getting evidence."

"I understand that. It was proper procedure. But she did a lot of translating. "

"No one else speaks French on the night crew. What were we supposed to do? We couldn't wait for morning. And. no I did not read her her rights. She wouldn't have understood. The lady is insane."

"Well, you're both are off the case. The coroner will inform Dr. Isles.."

"It's what we figured. Please, make sure they do a top notch work up on this. She's...she was a friend."

"I get it. But, Rizzoli, let your head rule this time. Stay away from this–both of you. It's a tar pit.

You could screw up everything."

"What about...?"

"I will tell you as it develops. Don't involve your kid brother or mother either. I'm well aware of the Rizzoli network. Go back home and get some sleep. You look like hell."

"Thanks." Jane took off. She called Maura on her way out. Maura had more work to do and wasn't willing to take off early, so Jane went home to sleep.

Jo Friday was thrilled to see her. They played a bit, and Jane took her dog for a walk. Then she went home and got into bed. She ached for sleep, but the voice in her head would not shut up. Jane tried a technique she had read...shutting off any head noise and blanking her mind. It worked for about three minutes. Jane recalled a professor she had who possessed a singular talent for putting his class to sleep. She remembered his voice. The next thing Jane knew, Maura was leaning over her, grinning.

"Did you get some sleep?"

"Yeah. Hey my headache is gone." Jane sat up. "Any news?"

"Kendall called for you. He said the splinters were American Elm. It's all we've got. Anne's in jail. I worry about her in there."

Jane patted the bed, and Maura sat next to her. "This is such a mess. One good thing. Makes me feel real sane."

"I am not in any mood to cook. Do you want to order something? Or explore the back of the refrigerator?"

"You took all the fun out of it, labeling the containers."

"That, my dear, was your mother."

"Oh."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The next week was one of a desperate, "All hands on deck", marathon clean up after a head on plane crash. Jane and Maura saw each other from time to time, but with two private planes, and a trailer involved, they had round the clock work identifying the dead, interviewing the living, and

notifying families.

Sleep was a long forgotten memory. Jane got home and just fell crosswise on the bed. She was asleep when the phone ran. She made three grabs for it before she had it in her hand.

"Rizzoli."

"They found a body...it might be the one Anne was involved with. I'm coming home. We can either talk, or sleep. Ok honey?"

"Yeah, Maur'. Just look in the bed. I'll be ...something..." Jane was back asleep.

Sometime later Jane felt Maura join her in bed. Jane moved to give her room, and was back asleep.

Jane woke up suddenly ravenous. Something smelled good. But Maura was still beside her, sound asleep. "Maybe Ma took pity on us again.", she thought, as she stumbled into the kitchen. Frankie was the one at the table, opening cartons of wonderful, mouth watering food.

"Hi Janie. I got us Ethiopian food. I know you like it. And I figured Maura would be too polite to say anything one way or the other. I took pity on you on account of you both looking like walking Zombies."

"Thanks. We had one hellofa week. Hey, injera., Gomen be Siga, Doro Tibs, and some of those spicy sauces. Cool." Jane reached for injera, as Frankie mimed rapping her knuckles.

"We are not a family of wolves", he said in a good approximation of their mother's favorite admonition. "Go see if Maura's awake."

"I'm awake.", came from the bedroom doorway, where Maura leaned. She had changed into designer jeans and one of Jane's shirts. Her hair was brushed, but her eyes had dark circles under them.

"Frankie brought us dinner. " Jane pulled out a chair for her partner, who sat down and rubbed her eyes.

"Thank you, Frankie. I really didn't want to cook. That was very sweet of you.", Maura took an injera, placed some stew on it, and rolled it up. She took a bite while Frankie and Jane looked to see if she would like it.

"I haven't had Ethiopian food since Doctors Without Borders. This is nice."

Frankie joined them and they ate industriously. It wasn't long before the containers were empty,

and Jane had one upside down looking for just a bite more. "That was good.", she announced.

Frankie pulled his chair back a bit, and leaned away from the table. "I got news on your friend Anne."

"What?", they said simultaneously.

"Looks bad for her. The guy was stabbed with an elm branch that fell off a tree. The mud on Anne's shoe was from the same area. The DNA came back a match to the blood on her hands."

"My God!", Maura turned pale. "There has to be something..anything...You met her before all this, Frankie. She was brilliant. One of the best...god, this is a heartbreaker."

Jane took Maura by the hand. She was at a loss for words. Jane could feel walls closing around her. She felt Maura leaning against her, and slipped her arm around her partner.

Frankie gave them a stricken look. He spread his hands apart, indicating that he was not able to think of anything either.

"What do you think will happen to her?", Frankie asked.

"If we can't find any evidence to exonerate her, she'll have to go to trial. I can hire a very good lawyer, but without that evidence, it doesn't look good."

Frankie's eyes went from Jane to Maura. "What about that she's mentally, you know, not guilty by reason of mental illness or defect?"

"It's super hard to prove, Frankie. And prosecuting attorney's hate that verdict. I've sat through trials where, yeah, the perp is guilty as hell, but really a head banging nut job, Didn't matter. Off to the slammer. It kinda made me sick."

"And Cavenaugh told you to stay out of it, right?"

"Cavenaugh and Cavenaugh _both_ told us to stay out of it. I can hire a private detective. I think I owe her that much. It's better than..."

Jane finished her sentence, "Sitting on our hands."

Maura was already checking her smartphone. She left the room for her call, while Jane and Frankie stared at the table.

"I feel worse for Maura than the rest of us. She's known Anne for 10 years. She's trying not to show how upset she feels, but..."

"She's easy to read. You know if she really wants something, she'll do whatever it takes. I don't think the coroner will let her go too far off the leash. I've worked around that Cavenaugh before. She's fair, but tough. You'd better, you know..."

"Yeah, well, good luck to me."

About fifteen minutes passed before Maura came back in. She looked pleased with herself.

"I found a private investigator. It's someone my cousin Mickey recommended"

Frankie exploded, "Are you nuts! You hired someone the Doyle family used? What in the hell were you thinking?"

Maura's eyes darkened. "He's not one of _those_ Doyles. Do you think I'm stupid? You are beginning to annoy me. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm going home now. I'm sorry for what I said." Frankie was out the door as fast as he could arrange.

Jane gave Maura an appraising look. "Did you fake that? It wasn't up to your usual standards."

"I was a little annoyed, but yes, I exaggerated. All your lessons are humanizing me. Give me another year or two, and maybe I can lie without passing out."

"That was just a little mean though, don't you think?"

"Should I call and apologize? After all...he did buy us dinner." Maura reached for her cell phone.

"Oh Maur' you don't need to do that. Frankie and I argue all the time. You're just fitting in with us Rizzolis.."

"Ok. I umm, Jane, have a little problem, which didn't help my mood. You know Wolf, the piper in Mickey's band?"

Jane's interior alarm system went off. Wolf was always hovering over Maura when they went to see the band. "Yeah."

"Wolf won't take, 'no, no, damn it I said no', for an answer. I told him, 'I'm taken, in a relationship, live with you, in a committed relationship.' He's a pest. So, Mickey had to threaten to fire him."

"Lovely. Now I'm pissed off. Do I have to write my name on your forehead?"

"No, it would look terrible. I think Mickey can keep him off me. If not, I can practice my self-defense skills on him." Maura demonstrated an uppercut to the air.

Jane was furious with herself. "Ask her, you dummy! It's only 4 little words. Open your mouth.", she thought it, but nothing would come out.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

They cleaned up the mess. Maura leaned over Jane, lightly trailing her fingers over the back of her neck. Jane shivered with desire. The woman knew Jane's every weak spot.

"Why, Maura, are you looking for some of those good endorphins?"

"As it happens, yes, I am. And you?"

"Oh, I could use some of those excellent endorphins. Shall we?"

So they retired to the bedroom.

Frankie's prediction came back to bite them. Jane and Maura found themselves in Cavenaugh's office, facing both Jane's boss and the Assistant Coroner. Neither looked happy.

"Rizzoli, did I not tell you to stay out of this Fortier affair?"

Jane hung her head. "Yes, you did, sir."

The Assistant Coroner was a short man, losing both his hair and his patience.

He glared at Maura.

"Isles. What the hell did you think you were doing? You hired a private detective! My God, that shows a lot of confidence in the department. What do you think the prosecuting attorney will do

with that? I can see it now, 'The daughter of crime boss Paddy Doyle hired a private detective to

help a murderer!' That's it. You touch nothing–nothing to do with this case. Anyone named Doyle is also to stay out. Got it?"

Jane glanced at her partner to check her eyes. Maura would go one of two ways. Her eyes were filled with tears–fortunately. Jane reached over and held Maura's hand. Her other hand dug in her pocket for a tissue. That she handed to Maura. Jane waited.

"I know it was wrong. But I've known Dr. Fortier for ten years. It breaks my heart to see her like this. I just wanted to help her. And, I can't help who my father was. He didn't raise me."

The Assistant Coroner looked extremely uncomfortable. Maybe he was one of those men who hated to see women cry. Jane concentrated on shutting up.

"Rizzoli, I'm done yelling at you. Get out."

Jane was feeling panicked. Leaving Maura alone could lead to real trouble. She looked back and forth between the Assistant Coroner and her partner. Luckily, her boss was not a stupid man.

"On second thought, you can stay and do the supportive thing."

Jane felt her entire body relax.

"Isles. I know you care about every body that comes it. Have you read the report on what your friend did–alright, allegedly did? Here, read this."

He handed Maura a file. Jane felt Maura's hand leave hers to read and turn pages. Jane couldn't resist the temptation to peek at the file. It was sickening. A deaf, homeless man had been bludgeoned and stabbed with a fallen elm branch. The chart showed multiple stabs. The crime scene photos were sickening. Jane felt acid in her stomach. Maura was shaking. She put the file down and gave it back.

"It's terrible. I had a suspicion, but she's mentally ill. I had hoped...that she had come across a body and maybe tried CPR. Honey, you remember we did CPR together at that free clinic.

The science is not on her side." The tears were falling again. "May I at least hire a lawyer for her?"

"I don't recommend it. You could do it anonymously. Just avoid the Doyle name." His tone was suddenly kindly.

"I'll do that. And I'll let the private detective go. I'm sorry I interfered. Sometimes I emote rather than think."

"I'm aware of your disability, so ..." He kind of grimaced. "No matter what I say at this point, I'm going to get myself in trouble, aren't I."

Jane smiled. "Yep. Even I know that, and I've skipped out on all those classes."

Cavenaugh gave Jane a pointed look."Yes, you have, which will be remedied. Soon."

Jane was proud of this deflection. She mentally patted herself on the back.

They emerged rebuked, but safe. The guys gave them a quizzical look, while Jane gave them a thumbs up.

Jane found herself doing forensic bookkeeping with Frost. She had always avoided it, thinking she would be bored, but it was fun.

"Gotya, you little bastard!", she crowed.

"Pipe down Rizzoli. I'm trying to work over here."

" Sorry, but this perp had twenty shell corporations, and I finally found the real one. Gotcha, gotcha, and now I'm gonna bust you.."

"God, Rizzoli. Shut up, will ya."

"Cranky Frost? Not getting any?", asked Korsak.

Frost retaliated by sticking headphones over his ears.

Jane was having fun. She loved following the trails of false information to see how the perps had hidden their money. She could do this all day, and the plus was nobody was shooting at her. The more she played with the records, the more Frost glowered. It finally entered Jane's head...''

"Oh God, he's pissed because he's our official expert on this. Better fake a question..", she thought." But this is way easy. He'll know and be even madder."

The solution arrived in the form of Angela. She went straight to Jane's desk, peering at the computer screen.

"What are you doing?"

Jane knew very well that her mother was actually there to pressure her to propose to Maura.

Her mother was an open book. "So help me, if she mentions the word grandchild..." Jane thought.

"I'm finding ways people cheat with their financial records."

"But there are so many numbers, and what's that?"

Jane knew very well it was a metes and bounds land description, and could draw it in her sleep.

She faked a puzzled look. "Ask Frost. He's our resident expert."

Angles walked over to Frost, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked him to explain the description

He leaned over Jane's computer, while Angela pointed out the part she couldn't understand.

Frost grinned. "This is a description of some property. If you follow the description, it shows each side, and, what do you know, only three sides. These fools are trying to sell a crooked line. You got some real jerks there, Rizzoli. Have fun with it."

Jane noticed his mood shift right off. Her good deed for the day.

"That's very interesting. So, speaking of buying things, when are you going to get an engagement ring for Maura?"

Jane's hands stiffened on the keyboard. She waited for part two.

"I'd really like to have some grandchildren before it's too late, and since you're the only one of my children involved with anyone, it's really up to you, Janie."

"Janie" gritted her teeth. "I'll get to it, Ma. Give some time, please. I'm not sure if she wants to get married right now. Okay? Besides, she's worried about her friend going on trial."

"Oh, I know. I remember her. It's so sad that someone like that, so intelligent, would just lose her mind. When is her trial?"

"Next week. So, don't bug me about proposing. Not until it's over."

Angela looked miffed, but finally she left. Jane went back to her work. Sure enough, the family had sent up a cloud of Quit Claim Deeds and slipped the faulty legal description in the middle of them. Jane almost laughed at their nerve. But she knew it might piss off Frost again. After a second, she noticed someone standing behind her chair, which she hated unless it was Maura.

Jane whirled around, ready to confront...Oh Korsak.

"Sheesh. What?"

"You're good at that."

"Well, keep it quiet, I just got Frost back on my side."

"So, Jane, when are you gonna pop the question?"

"Since when is it everybody's business?"

"I know you want to. I've been there often enough. So what's stopping you.?"

"I've tried, but the words won't come out. I mean, what if she doesn't want to?"

"Hey, who wouldn't want to marry you, Rizzoli?"

"I have a whole list, lemme tell ya.. Maybe after this trial. The whole thing is such a mess."

Korsak. considered. "You might want to wait even later. She drew one of those prosecutors

who think mental illness is all faked."

Jane's spirits sunk. "Oh god...whatever...I was hoping they'd put her up in some nice hospital

for the rest of her life. Don't let anyone tell Maura. Please."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Both women had sat through countless trials–mostly to testify as expert witnesses. They felt funny sitting in with the non-professionals. Jane could feel the tension in her partner's body. She took Maura's hand, and felt her relax a little. Jane was tense too. She almost hoped they hadn't cleaned Anne up too much. It would make it harder for the jury to see her mental state.

When the lawyer brought Anne in, Jane's fears were confirmed. She was clean and neat. Her hair was combed, and her glasses back on. She walked like a zombie, however, which raised Jane's suspicions.

"Did they drug her?", Jane asked.

"Probably. If it's Haldol, I'm firing her attorney. It has the same side effects as what it's given for."

Jane recognized the Prosecuting Attorney. Her heart sunk. He was a bull dog, who barked at defendants until their fears caused them to say things they shouldn't. Jane was glad she wasn't a witness on this trial.

As people shuffled in a young man in a t-shirt and jeans approached them.

"Dr. Isles?". Jane shook her head. She almost sent him away, red flags were going up in her mind.

"I'm Dr. Isles.", said Maura.

He handed her a summons. "Dr. Maura Isles, you have been served."

And Maura thanked him! Jane couldn't believe her ears.

"You got a summons?"

Maura opened it. She frowned. "To testify against Anne. I hate my life."

Jane put her arm around Maura. "I love you."

Things went from bad to worse.

The judge was a known homeless advocate. She was wearing a hearing aide.

The crime scene photos were sickening. The jury nodded along with whatever the prosecutor said. Anne was kept off the witness stand. Nothing was said about her mental state.

When Maura was called to the witness stand and sworn it, Jane's anxiety level zoomed.

The prosecutor glared at her. Maura was very calm, professional. Jane tapped her fingers on her knee.

"Dr. Isles. You gathered evidence from the defendant even though you had been friends for ten years?"

"Along with Doug Wilson, my assistant, yes."

"But you handled everything?"

"Yes, I used proper procedure to place everything into labeled evidence bags."

"And you did all the questioning, despite the presence of a homicide detective, Jane Rizzoli?"

"I was the only one present who could understand French–other than Dr. Fortier."

"And the jury is supposed to take your word for what was said. Even though you are the daughter of crime boss Paddy Doyle?"

Jane saw Maura's eyes darken. Jane slowly shook her head.

"My father and I barely knew each other. I was raised by Edward and Constance Isles. In another state. And since Paddy Doyle died last year, he could hardly be giving me orders."

"And why should we believe you?"

Jane smiled. This might be fun.

"Because I can't lie."

"Are you saying that you are so morally superior that you can't lie?"

"I have a medical condition, and I faint if I lie."

"Then show me. Lie to me."

"I think you are a real gentleman." Maura's face drained of color. She started to hyperventilate, then slumped. A second later, she sat up, flustered.

"I wish you hadn't done that. I don't like people to see."

The prosecutor gave up. The smiling defending attorney had no questions.

Jane and Maura were getting more and more unsettled with Anne's zombie-like behavior.

She was sitting, statue-like, hardly moving at all. When a noon recess was called, Maura confronted the attorney.

"Why is she drugged?"

"I thought it wise."

"I don't' and it better not be Haldol."

"Look, doctor, I don't know what business it is of yours, but I want my client on her best behavior. I gave her Haldol, and told her that since she's dead, what happens isn't real."

Jane saw Maura's eyes darken dangerously.

"I am Anonymous, if you must know. I have known Anne for ten years. I respected her as a doctor, and my friend. I expect you to do your best for her. Get off your fat ass, before I become annoyed with you. Take her off the drugs. Her only chance is to have the jury see her in her natural state. And I had better see a change by tomorrow, or I could lose my temper."

The attorney didn't look convinced. Jane decided it would be better for Anne to convince him.

"Look, Dr. Isles knows what she's talking about. I knew Anne before too, and I don't, repeat, do not, want to see her someplace she doesn't belong because you were too stupid to let the jury see how sick she really is. Think. I'm Italian, and my whole family is scared of Maura's temper. Don't make her mad. It is not a pretty sight."

Jane could feel Maura shaking, and rushed to get her out of the building. The hot air sobered her just a little, but she was laughing.

"You are one nutty lady."

"I can't help myself. 'Don't make her mad, it is not a pretty sight. " Maura continued to giggle.

"Sheesh, I can't take you anywhere.", and Jane started to laugh too.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The trial deteriorated from that point. Anne was off the drugs, and her rocking, humming, playing with her hair, taking her glasses off, and occasional outbursts made the jury take notice. The attorney refused to allow Anne to be questioned. Then Maura was called as a witness by the Prosecutor. After she was sworn in, the Prosecutor made a point of reminding everyone that Maura couldn't lie. Jane worried about what he was up to.

"Dr. Isles. How long have you known the defendant?"

"Ten Years."

"Where did you meet her?"

"At a Medical Convention."

"What was her specialty?"

Maura hesitated, then replied, "She was a police psychiatrist."

"And as a psychiatrist, would she know the symptoms of many forms of mental illness?"

Maura looked sick. "Yes."

"And would she be able to fake them?"

"Yes.", Maura sounded defeated.

"Well enough to fool another professional?"

Maura took a deep breath. Tears were standing in her eyes. "Yes."

"That will be all."

The tears were falling before Maura reached Jane. They walked out into the hallway.

Jane got out a tissue, and Maura wept. Jane wanted to. This was so unfair. Anne was really sick, and no one seemed to care.

"Jane, I can't watch anymore. Let's go home. Please."

They stayed away until the trial was over. The results were predictable. Anne was found guilty of murder and sentenced to life in Massachusetts Correctional Institution. Depression descended on their household. Jane and Maura went to work, did their jobs and went home. Sometimes they cried. Other times they went through the motions of everyday life.

It was a night the same as every other when Maura sat Jane down to talk.

"We have to do something, or I'm afraid we won't last."

"I know. It's so hard to talk about. I feel like such a failure."

"So do I. We both failed. I don't like to fail. But we can't live like this. We used to be really good together. I. Well, I think this situation has poisoned us. And I brought her into our lives."

"Whoa, now, don't you dare blame yourself. We were in this together. I think, Maur' that we were in so far over our heads it was like we tried to climb Everest, and feel like failures for not making it."

"It was really too big for us, wasn't it?"

Jane reached for her partner, and was happy to feel her against her chest.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed us."

"Yeah. Us. Has a nice ring to it." Jane leaned down and kissed Maura's head.

They held each other a long time. Just reuniting.

The phone call was a month later. Maura took it, and Jane knew it was bad. Maura's face crumpled. Her eyes filled. Maura hung up the phone and gave a strangled cry.

Jane went over to hold her.

"It's about Anne. She's dead. She, oh my god, she taunted other prisoners until they beat her to death."

Jane was out of words. She just held Maura until her shoulder was wet. Jane was determined not to get dragged down by Anne Fortier ever again. She rocked her partner, not even noticing the tears falling from her own eyes.

That night they made love–not with their usual passion, but quietly. Their lovemaking spoke of healing and caring. They were once again becoming one person. .

The End.


End file.
